An Olive Branch by Any Other Name
by C.S. Williams
Summary: Poseidon volunteering to help Athena and her daughter? And some people still think you need a prophecy to know when the world's about to end. Post-SoN, so be warned!
1. Helping Athena

**A/N: This takes place during Son of Neptune, so beware of spoilers if you haven't read it! A HUGE thank you to my absolutely amazing beta reader, bibliophile114, for even more help than usual on this one. Seriously, it was beyond invaluable. Let's just say if you like the story, it's probably not my fault! (And if you don't like it, blame Rick Riordan. This is what SoN drove me to write.)  
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**Disclaimer: All characters below are property of Rick Riordan. I'm only borrowing them because he insisted on being evil about the SoN ending.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Athena was not having a fantastic week. She found herself instinctively cursing Percy Jackson for that, because to be honest, nearly all her bad days recently could be traced to Percy Jackson. Not that it was entirely his fault; he couldn't really be blamed for being born and reaching age sixteen against all odds, after all. She blamed his father for that one. Athena was nothing if not fair.<p>

Now the world was in jeopardy yet again, and yet again Percy Jackson was at the center of it. He'd proven himself with the last Great Prophecy, though, so she wasn't too upset that he had a role in the Prophecy of Seven as well. She wasn't thrilled, of course; she stood by her assessment that the boy was too loyal, and his adventures frequently seemed to involve putting her daughter in life-threatening situations. But if Hera felt the need to include the upstart son of Poseidon in her desperate gamble, Athena had no major objections. It was difficult to watch her daughter suffer, true, but she knew it was only temporary.

And then Athena had heard the harpy say those fateful words: "_Wisdom's daughter walks alone, the Mark of Athena burns through Rome."_ You didn't need to be the goddess of wisdom to decipher _that_. (As was obvious when Percy himself had understood the implications. If a son of Poseidon can grasp the meaning, your prophecy could stand to be a little more cryptic.)

Athena had immediately gone to see Hera.

"You did not mention you'd chosen my daughter for the seven," Athena had said, trying her best to keep her temper under control. She was known for meticulous revenge, not hotheaded anger, but she was still an Olympian. Self-control was not their forte.

"I said I'd chosen the strongest demigods. Did you not consider your daughter among them?" asked Hera innocently. She clucked her tongue in mock disapproval. "You should really have more faith in her. Especially now that she'll be on her way to Rome soon."

Athena had turned on her heel without a word, because she knew another second facing Hera's arrogant smile would wipe away any hope of avoiding a war among the gods.

Hera had hit a sore point, however. Athena _hadn't_ considered her daughter one of the seven strongest demigods. Her children were smart and quick, but she had assumed "strong" referred to specific powers. Percy, Jason, Leo, Hazel, Frank, and even Piper made sense in that regard. Children of the Big Three were always incredibly powerful. Why not add Nico or Thalia to the group? Why choose Annabeth instead?

The only explanation had to be Annabeth's past disrespect toward Hera. Hera wanted to prove to Annabeth just how much control she had over her life. Well, fine. Athena wasn't above using her own influence. Being Zeus' favorite daughter had its advantages.

But that hadn't gone well either. Now Athena was back in the war room of Olympus, trying to convince herself not to throw out every battle plan she'd drawn for the upcoming war. She had to weigh the look on Hera's face when the giants stormed Olympus against an eternity of pain and suffering at the giants' hands. It probably wasn't supposed to be a hard decision.

And then, as if her week hadn't been going poorly enough, she heard _him_ enter the room behind her.

"I'm sorry."

She snorted. It wasn't a particularly dignified sound for a goddess, but she didn't trust herself to tell him in words exactly what she thought of his timing. "You must be happy," she said instead, ignoring his apology completely.

"About what?" he asked. He sounded confused, as if he didn't know what she was talking about. Perhaps he didn't. It would hardly be the first time he hadn't understood what she was saying.

"Your son," Athena clarified. "If all goes well, he'll be hailed as the savior of Olympus yet again."

It was Poseidon's turn to snort. "Yes, because things so frequently go well."

She finally turned to face him, acknowledging he had a point. For once. "Perhaps we should stop allowing Olympus to fall into jeopardy quite so often. But then what can we really do? We're only gods, after all."

This time he laughed. "And to think all these years I thought you had no sense of humor."

"It's a secret guarded almost as carefully as Lord Zeus' master bolt." The corners of her mouth crept up slightly despite herself.

Poseidon laughed again. "Sometimes I forget why we hate each other."

"Medusa. Athens. Your refusal to employ basic logic," Athena responded without missing a beat.

"Ah, I remember now. Your smug sense of superiority."

"It's hardly smug when it's deserved."

"A matter of opinion."

"I believe there's a mortal phrase for this: 'the truth hurts.'"

He rolled his eyes. Also a decidedly mortal action. That son of his had not been a good influence.

"Anyway," Poseidon said, "I imagine I'm as happy to see my son among the seven as you are to see your daughter."

She stiffened. "So you've come to gloat?"

Athena was surprised to see he seemed genuinely offended. "I see you think as little of me as ever."

"Well, what am I supposed to think?" she demanded, but her voice sounded weary even to her. Hours of arguing with Zeus earlier had gotten her nowhere. She was tired of fighting. "To show up here, now of all times? Congratulations. Whatever it is you've come to win, consider it won."

"Did it ever occur to you I might be here to help?" he asked angrily. "That maybe you're not the only one with something at stake here?"

Of course it hadn't occurred to her. She was only trained to consider _viable_ strategies. It was an unspoken but firm rule: they didn't help each other. Not for millennia now. "You know Lord Zeus denied my request," Athena said frankly. It was as close to an olive branch as she was willing to get. Which was probably for the best, seeing as how the olive tree was still a bit of a sore point for them.

"Yes," he replied, his tone softening. He paused a moment before adding, "If anyone can overcome this, Annabeth can. She's one of the strongest demigods I've ever seen. You know it's why Hera picked her for the seven."

She gave another snort. "Is it?"

Poseidon didn't reply. She admired him—just a little, mind you, and she would never say such blasphemy aloud—for not immediately offering false reassurances.

Athena drew a breath, trying to get her anger under control once again. Having children certainly hadn't done her temperament any favors. "Annabeth's strength is precisely why Hera hates her, and I'm not convinced that hatred isn't clouding Hera's judgment. So yes, one way or another, I suppose my daughter's strength is to blame for her inclusion in the seven. But was she chosen because Hera believes she may succeed or because Hera hopes she will fail?"

"Hera is…vengeful when she feels slighted," he admitted. "But I believe she believes strongly in her plan. She would not do anything to sabotage it. Not with so much riding on the outcome."

"You mean she wishes to show her husband who is really the power behind the throne," she said disdainfully.

Poseidon looked around, his jaw tense. "You should be more careful. To say such things now where anyone could hear is not wise." A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. He sighed in resignation. "No pun intended."

It was hardly a genuine pun, but she didn't comment on it. "What will Lord Zeus do to me? Or Lady Hera, for that matter? Punish themselves by making me sit out the coming battle?" She laughed again, bitterly, as another thought occurred to her. "Or perhaps they will even threaten my daughter's life!"

He glanced at her sharply. "Be thankful her life is still only threatened. And you do have other children," he reminded her.

Athena nodded. "True. I have grown too accustomed to assuming they will be left out of our squabbles. That has been particularly unwise of me." First she had assumed Annabeth would be left out of the prophecy and now this. Planning appeared useless in the face of children.

They were silent for a minute. Suddenly Poseidon asked, "Was my brother the one to deny your request?"

"Technically," she said. "Although Lady Hera was the one who convinced him it could prove 'potentially destructive' to her plan. He has essentially washed his hands of the whole affair. He is retreating and allowing her to do as she pleases. His official ruling is that I am 'too crucial to the war effort' to be allowed to leave. He is afraid I will be captured."

"Is it just me, or has he become even more paranoid since Hera's imprisonment?" he asked.

Athena sighed. "He has. An impressive feat, considering how paranoid he was before."

For a minute, Poseidon looked like he was going to scold her again for saying things she shouldn't, but he must have thought better of it. Very wise, she thought with satisfaction. Clearly she was a good influence on him.

"It would be extremely unwise to defy him," he said instead, clearly understanding Athena intended to do just that. She narrowed her eyes at him. She got the feeling Poseidon thought her father might have a point. If so, he'd be well-advised not to mention it. Suggesting the goddess of battle strategy might get herself captured was a surefire way to guarantee owls switched to an all-fish diet.

"Perhaps," she agreed. "But what choice do I have? What's done is done. Regardless of the reason, Annabeth is one of the seven. I cannot change that, nor am I permitted to aid her in her quest. But if she truly is to be a pawn in Lady Hera's game…at the very least, she has a right to know her fate and make her choices accordingly. So if I must go against Lord Zeus' wishes to warn her, then that's what I shall do."

Poseidon sighed. "There's another way."

She fixed him with her fiercest glare. "I am not the goddess of strategy for nothing. I have already considered asking Hermes. Lord Zeus has him delivering pleas for assistance to anyone who might listen. He will not be available in time."

"I didn't mean Hermes," he said, slightly annoyed. "I told you I was here to help. I'm offering to help."

Well, this certainly violated the unspoken rule. Athena blinked at him (probably owlishly, she mused wryly). It had been many centuries since she had last been at a loss for words, but in her defense, it had been many more centuries since she had last heard Poseidon offer his help. She couldn't even remember when that was. The Trojan War, maybe? They'd been on the same side, but they hadn't interacted much. And after that he had spent the next ten years making Odysseus' life miserable. So no, on second thought, she wasn't going to count that.

"_You_ want to help _me_?" she asked slowly, finally finding her voice.

"Don't flatter yourself," Poseidon said, still sounding annoyed. "I'm offering for his sake, not yours."

Ah. "You care deeply for the boy," Athena noted. For the first time, she noticed she wasn't mentally condemning him for it as she had in the past. Maybe because today that would have made her a hypocrite.

He didn't try to deny it. "He deserves a break. More than _two months_. You're not the only one unhappy with this latest development." Poseidon deliberately avoided her gaze.

At first Athena nodded, thinking he meant the Prophecy of Seven, but that didn't make sense. He'd known Hera had chosen Percy for the better part of a year now. As far as she knew, the most recent development was Annabeth—

"You don't think he'll be able to bear it if she dies," she realized, somewhat surprised. After all, children of the Big Three were known for their resilience. But then Percy Jackson had defied so many stereotypes. Including that sons-of-Poseidon-don't-date-daughters-of-Athena one she liked so much.

"I don't think he should have to," he countered. Looking at her raised eyebrow, though, Poseidon relented. "No. I think it would destroy him."

"Your children never have been the most stable," she agreed matter-of-factly.

He gave her a look that, for the first time, made her think of him as her uncle. He had never seemed that mature before. "Really? I thought we were finally getting somewhere here."

Athena considered apologizing, but she couldn't shake the mental image of him scolding her like a little girl. And anyway, what was the point of breaking her no-apology streak now? "You were saying something about helping?"

He nodded. "You need someone to warn Annabeth. I can do it without invoking my brother's wrath." Poseidon smirked, looking remarkably like his son for a moment. "Zeus still owes me for letting my brand-new game room be destroyed last August."

Athena channeled her own children and rolled her eyes back at him. "The importance of game rooms notwithstanding, Lady Hera would never allow it."

"The most my sister will do is tattle on me to Zeus," he said, waving a hand like Hera had no more power than a lowly nymph. "And Zeus won't stop me. He _does_ understand the importance of game rooms."

She regarded him silently for a minute. "You would really be willing to risk their wrath to help my daughter?" A thought struck her. "You do realize she's _my_ daughter, don't you?"

"I thought we'd established that, yes," he said dryly. "But we can't help who our parents are. _My_ father had his army _destroy my game room_."

Athena refused to give him the satisfaction of rolling her eyes again. How had he kept the ocean as relatively healthy as it was with this irreverent attitude of his?

"I suppose I should thank you," she said instead.

"It's not necessary," Poseidon assured her, looking uncomfortable.

"I didn't say I _would_ thank you. I merely said I supposed I _should_." She raised both eyebrows at him.

He scowled. "One step forward, two steps back with us, huh?"

"We could forget this conversation ever happened and save ourselves the exercise," she suggested.

"Agreed," he said. And just like that, they were done talking. Although at least this time they hadn't been forced to stop because Poseidon was unconsciously sinking Atlantis. That had been a tough one to explain to Zeus.

She watched him walk away, suddenly not sure if forgetting the conversation also meant forgetting his offer. Athena considered calling him back to ask, but she refused to allow herself to show such weakness (and to _him_, no less). Oh well. She couldn't say she didn't know where Annabeth had gotten that stubborn pride of hers. She pursed her lips, ready to turn back to her battle plans.

At the last second, though, Poseidon stopped and stared pointedly at her. "If anyone asks where I am for the next few minutes…"

She nodded, telling herself that definitely was _not_ a lump in her throat. "This recent climate change is causing appalling damage to global marine life, isn't it?"

He smiled. "I'm just so busy doing godly ocean things."

With that, he vanished. Athena stared after him.

_Thank you, Poseidon_, she thought. She wasn't willing to say the words aloud, because Olympus knew he'd do something to make her regret it by tomorrow, but she was willing to compromise. She turned back to her battle plans, absently sketching the beginnings of a sea palace game room in the corner of a map of Athens.

Annabeth wasn't the only one with stubborn pride _and_ architectural talents, after all.


	2. Helping Annabeth

Annabeth stalked across the deck of the _Argo II_, ignoring the looks she was getting from the campers onboard. Every time the camp leaders started any sort of strategy council, _every single time_, the Romans found a way to disagree with her. "It's too risky." "We'll have fewer losses our way." "The legion can go in first; you Greeks are probably better as backup." And the worst part was that Percy actually _agreed_ with them sometimes. Not all the time, but enough. Put the guy in a bedsheet and suddenly he's a master strategist.

"Hey, Annabeth, where's the fire?" Leo joked as she passed him. "Get it? 'Cause I'm—"

He swallowed his words as soon as she turned her murderous glare on him.

"So, yeah, like I was saying, we're just getting out of your way," he finished quickly. He motioned to the few campers above deck, and they all scampered to clear a path for her. It reminded her of one of the "science experiments" Luke used to show her when she was little and he'd felt bad she couldn't go to school. He'd sprinkle pepper in a bowl of water and put a drop of soap in the middle. The pepper immediately sprang to the edges of the bowl, as far away from the soap as possible. That's exactly what the campers looked like now: pepper collecting on the very edges of the _Argo II. _Of course, maybe the pepper part of her analogy was unnecessary. Demigods avoided soap as a general rule.

Annabeth didn't even spare them a glance as she jumped down the ladder to get to her room below decks. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized she was behaving a little immaturely (that small, traitorous part of her brain kept insisting she was throwing a fit, actually, but that idea was just ridiculous). It didn't stop her from slamming the door to her room as hard as she could as soon as she was inside.

"Something wrong?" asked a voice from her bed.

Annabeth couldn't help it. She shrieked.

And of course _that_ immediately brought thundering footsteps to her door.

"I'm not here!" said the intruder hurriedly, and he was beyond lucky Annabeth was able to recognize him through her terror, because she was about to scream as loudly as possible for anyone listening, all dignity forgotten. The only thing that saved him and her pride was that he looked freakishly like Percy, if Percy were a couple years older and had recently gotten a haircut. Unless Hera had decided aging Percy a couple years and chopping off his hair was suddenly crucial to saving the world (and you could never be sure with the gods), this was the next closest thing: Percy's father.

"Annabeth? Is everything okay?" Piper called hesitantly through the door. She obviously didn't want to barge in when Annabeth was in such a bad mood, but just as obviously she couldn't ignore Annabeth shrieking. Annabeth did _not_ shriek.

"Fine!" Annabeth shouted back, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Just startled, that's all."

"I heard a voice," Piper said carefully. "Uh, a boy's voice."

Annabeth cursed. A boy and a girl alone behind a closed door definitely violated Chiron's ship rules.

"Is Percy in there with you?" Piper continued.

Annabeth almost laughed. "Uh, sorry, Piper—"

"No, no, that's fine," Piper said, and Annabeth swore she could _hear_ the younger girl's smirk. "Just…behave yourselves, okay? Your secret's safe with me."

Before Annabeth could correct her, Piper had walked away. Annabeth groaned slightly. She didn't see herself living this one down anytime in the next, oh, seventy years or so. Maybe it was a good thing these prophecies kept showing up to shorten her life expectancy.

"So do you and my son frequently not behave yourselves behind closed doors?" asked the young man sitting on the edge of her bed. "She seemed to think that was rather necessary to specify."

Annabeth felt her face heat up instantly, although she was pretty sure Poseidon was joking. "No, she was just being Piper. Which is why I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill her in her sleep. Painfully."

She cleared her throat in an attempt to reclaim some of her dignity, which had apparently been lost despite not screaming for everyone to hear. "I'm sorry about that, Lord Poseidon," she said formally, bowing to him for good measure.

He waved her up. "Please, no formalities. I'm not exactly here officially, so I do appreciate you not revealing my presence."

Annabeth decided not to mention the only reason she hadn't said anything was because Piper hadn't given her a chance. Or that it was only going to work until Piper ran into the actual Percy, who usually followed her a few minutes after she stormed off in a huff. That was happening a lot these days.

"And I'm sorry for startling you," Poseidon continued. "I was not expecting you to enter so…forcefully."

Annabeth bit her lip, embarrassed. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

Poseidon nodded knowingly. "The camps aren't blending as well as my sister had hoped," he observed.

"That's putting it mildly," Annabeth said. She sighed, sinking tiredly into a desk chair. "No, that's not really true. _I'm_ not blending well. Everyone else is having problems, yeah, but I think I'm causing most of them."

He watched her with slight concern, and he looked so much like Percy that she blurted out before he could speak, "Shouldn't you be a little older?" He frowned, and she realized that was probably incredibly offensive. And considering her mother, Poseidon didn't need much of an excuse to blast her to bits. "I'm sorry, I only meant that Percy always describes you as middle-aged, and I've only ever seen you that way too, and you don't look much older than I am—"

Poseidon laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. "Forgive me. I'm afraid I haven't been allowed much experience with mortal women these past few decades. Would you prefer I appear as I do to Percy?"

She cleared her throat. "No, that's fine. I mean, you don't need to bother changing," she stammered. In truth—and she knew this was about as selfish as it got—it was kind of nice to be sitting next to someone who looked like Percy and not be waiting for the next fight to erupt. Ever since the two camps had met, it seemed like everything she or Percy did annoyed the other. He didn't like her taking Jason's side. She didn't like him defending Reyna. A teenage Poseidon was a pleasant reminder of why she'd spent the past eight months desperately searching the corners of the globe for her boyfriend.

"Good," he said. "I don't often get to appear young. When tending to the affairs of the sea, few take a boy as seriously as they do a man. My wife is also rather adamant I maintain an older form. I suspect she believes it encourages loyalty to her."

Annabeth tried not to think about that or his implied, "but she's usually wrong." This was her _boyfriend's dad_. She didn't need the details. "So, you're here to see me?" she asked, even though that was pretty obvious. Anything to get rid of those mental images.

"Yes," Poseidon confirmed. "Your mother wished to visit herself, but she was…detained. I volunteered to come on her behalf."

She didn't bother hiding her shock. "You're here to help my mom?"

This time he really did seem offended. "Why is that such a difficult thing to believe? I'm very helpful!"

Annabeth smothered a grin. Now he sounded like Percy too. "I'm sorry, Lord Poseidon. I meant no disrespect."

"Of course you didn't," he huffed. "You're not your mother."

"Thank the gods," Annabeth murmured. Still, despite her best efforts, he must have heard it. Poseidon grinned. She noticed painfully that it was the same lop-sided grin Percy gave her when he thought she was being funny.

"You're welcome," he told her with a wink. She rolled her eyes once she thought he couldn't see her.

"So my mom wanted to see me?" Annabeth prompted, hoping to avoid an awkward silence. Or, worse, more references to Poseidon's lack of loyalty. She'd take on the entire giant army single-handedly before she'd deal with _that_.

Poseidon nodded. "Yes. She asked me to—well, she didn't actually _ask_ me to do anything, because she's as stubborn as a wild mustang with a—" he caught her expression and smiled apologetically. "Ahem. Sorry. Anyway, I'm here to deliver a warning. Hera has chosen you as one of the seven demigods, and your mother is concerned the decision might not have been completely unbiased."

"What, you mean because Hera hates me?" Annabeth asked dryly. "Uh, yeah, I kind of thought as much. I figure anything Hera does will inevitably make my life more miserable. I now avoid farmland, ranches, and petting zoos. There are only so many pairs of shoes I'm willing to donate to the cause."

Poseidon blinked then chuckled lightly. "I think I like you, daughter of Athena. My son chose well."

"Yeah, go tell your son that," she muttered. Again, she hadn't intended for Poseidon to hear it, but judging by the frown on his face, he had. Maybe she should start taking godly hearing into account before she said things she shouldn't say.

"I know he thought of you constantly. He was beside himself when he heard you were coming, you know. I had assumed the excitement would be reciprocated," Poseidon said. He sounded a little disapproving, and she wondered if he was reconsidering whether he liked her.

"I did too," she said, sighing. "I mean, I was excited. Really," she insisted when Poseidon looked (justifiably) unconvinced. "But I _don't_ have him back. Not really."

Poseidon's expression was eerily similar to Percy's the one time she had tried to explain load bearing walls to him. She couldn't blame him for that, though. (That is, she couldn't blame Poseidon. She fully blamed Percy. Load bearing walls were, like, the easiest thing in the world. They had nothing on teenage relationships.)

Annabeth grimaced and tried to explain better. "It's just not the same. I spent six months going out of my mind with worry, and he barely remembered my name for most of it. He's had about a week of actually knowing enough to realize what we've been missing out on. I've been agonizing over it for _six months_. I know he appreciates how hard it was for me, but he didn't actually experience it. And even worse, now that he remembers, it's like he wants to just pick up where we left off and pretend those six months didn't happen. When did my priorities become so messed up that _that_ bothers me more than the world potentially ending?" And okay, maybe she was a little jealous of how well he'd managed to fit in here and how much he didn't seem to need her anymore. But she definitely wouldn't be admitting _that_ anytime soon.

She snuck a glance at Poseidon, afraid she'd gone too far. Maybe she should have made him change his appearance. It was a little too easy to pretend she was finally telling all this to Percy himself.

"I wish I could remember being young," he said wistfully. Annabeth stared at him. "Really young, I mean. It must have been a delightfully confusing few minutes."

"Forget I said anything," she said, embarrassed again. When your boyfriend's dad starts mocking you, it's time to give up.

Poseidon grimaced this time, matching her own expression. "No, no, I apologize. I was merely thinking out loud. I assume you haven't tried talking to Percy about this?"

"No. Of course not. He's the one taking all this in stride, which means I know it's entirely my problem," she confessed. Gods, how terrible did you have to be to resent your boyfriend for making friends with other people when he was thrown across the country without his memory? Of course, he didn't seem too thrilled that she'd made other friends after he'd been gone _six months_ either. "Besides, he's got enough to worry about."

"And you think he isn't worrying about this already?" he asked pointedly. "If so, you don't know my son nearly as well as I thought you did."

Annabeth winced at the accusation. "No, I know he knows something's wrong, and it's bugging him that he doesn't know how to fix it. But it's not his problem to fix, and it won't even matter in a few days anyway."

She clamped her lips shut as she realized what she'd almost revealed, but it didn't make a difference. Poseidon knew where she was going with it. Seriously, she'd spoken to him for five minutes, and already he could read her like a book. Well, like a non-dyslexic could read a book, at least. Did gods even read books? Or were they content with reading demigods' minds?

"You're planning on leaving," he said, rudely jerking her back to reality.

He hadn't said it like a question, so she didn't feel as bad not answering him directly.

"Percy told me the prophecy," she said instead. "The part of it Ella knew, I mean. _Wisdom's daughter walks alone, the Mark of Athena burns through Rome_."

Poseidon sighed heavily. "And you've interpreted this to mean you must go to Rome alone."

"There's another interpretation?" asked Annabeth.

He shrugged. "The prophecies are always vague and unclear. True prophecies, at least. I hear Mars recently tried his hand at one and couldn't even make it rhyme."

"'Alone' and 'Rome' aren't exactly perfect rhymes either," Annabeth pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. "You should hear it in Latin. Or Greek. They're always terrible. I've tried to tell Apollo that, but he just informs me I 'don't appreciate art.' He's been trying to find a way to convert the Oracle to all-haiku prophecies lately, so if you think you aren't getting any information _now_…" Poseidon trailed off, smiling faintly as Annabeth groaned. That was all they needed. She could practically hear Rachel now: _"Seven demigods / Foes bear arms to Doors of Death / I am so cool."_

"Anyway," Poseidon continued, "Athena has other daughters. Or perhaps the prophecy will not come to pass for millennia. There is no way to be certain."

Annabeth snorted. "And it just happened to come up now? How often are daughters of Athena in Rome?" She looked at her hands. "It doesn't matter anyway. The prophecies always come true. If there's even a chance this is about me, I can't ignore it."

"But why go alone?" Poseidon asked, seeming genuinely curious. Maybe he couldn't read minds. "My son has proven he will follow you anywhere. He would lay down his life for yours without a second thought."

Annabeth flinched.

"Ah," said Poseidon quietly. "You fear he will come with you, and the prophecy indicates he will die doing so."

"Like you said, how can I be sure one way or the other? I won't take the risk, though," she said firmly. "He's the one who has to save the world. I'm the one who gets to help occasionally. Besides, I'm just making things harder for him here. It's better for everyone if I continue to Rome on my own."

"He would disagree," Poseidon warned her. "And you know he would, or you would have already mentioned this to him."

Annabeth didn't deny it. She looked him straight in the eye. "Do you think I'm wrong?"

He cringed slightly. Annabeth had a moment of smug satisfaction that her glare worked on at least one Olympian. "I don't know," he admitted at last. "You and your mother have an uncanny ability to make even the most ridiculous ideas seem plausible."

She grinned. "And that's why you hate us."

Poseidon shook his head, almost sadly. "I could never hate you, even if you _did_ inherit your mother's infuriating tendency to be right about everything. You've saved my son more times than I can count. Of course," he continued ruefully, "no one has ever prayed to me for my exceptional math skills, so that may not mean much. Regardless, I owe you a debt, daughter of Athena."

"He's saved me just as often," Annabeth muttered, embarrassed yet again. "You don't owe me anything."

"I think I do," he said thoughtfully. "And never let it be said I do not repay my debts. If you are determined to continue on your own, I shall accompany you."

She knew her eyes had to be as wide as dinner plates. "That's very, um, kind of you, Lord Poseidon, but I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking me," he said. "I'm offering. Because I'm helpful. Be sure to mention that to your mother the next time you speak to her."

"Thanks, but I'm supposed to go alone—"

"You're supposed to _walk_ alone," Poseidon corrected her. She felt her jaw drop. Seaweed Brain's father was correcting _her_? "If it will make you feel better, I'll hover a couple inches off the ground at all times."

Annabeth was shocked to discover he was teasing her, with the same sparkle in his eyes that Percy always got when _he_ teased her. Maybe that was what did it, because the next thing she knew, she was agreeing.

"If you insist…" she trailed off hesitantly, giving him one last opportunity to back out.

"I do," Poseidon said. He almost sounded excited. "Your mother can cover for me on Olympus for a few more days. I haven't been to Rome in centuries. Not as Poseidon, at least."

Oh, her mother. Annabeth moaned. What would her mother say about this? She was already regretting it.

"You know, I think this is actually a terrible idea—"

She was cut off by footsteps outside her room again.

"Annabeth!" This time it was Percy. He sounded out of breath, which made her feel a little guilty. He must have run into Piper. "Annabeth, are you okay?"

"Fine!" she called back. "Give me a minute!"

"Annabeth, Piper said she heard voices in your room," she heard Chiron say disapprovingly. Well, so much for Piper keeping her secret. Although to be fair, the minute Piper saw Percy, she probably thought Annabeth was trapped with some sort of serial killer, given the way she'd shrieked. "Is there a boy in there with you?"

"No," Annabeth answered honestly. Now if he'd asked about an ancient Greek god…and it did _not_ help that Poseidon was just sitting there, smirking at her.

"Well? Shall we journey to Rome?" he whispered, holding out his hand.

"Do we have to go right this moment?" she hissed at him. "You do know we've kind of been having a whole demigods-going-missing problem lately, don't you?"

Poseidon's smirk morphed into a full-blown grin. "Except this time, Lady Hera will be the confused one. She's distracted watching your mother. We won't get another chance like this to…what's the phrase you use? 'Mess with her'?"

"Annabeth, who _is_ that?" asked Percy, sounding panicked. And maybe a little jealous? "It's not Jason, is it?" Oh, definitely jealous. Jason had even been at the council with them, so unless he had magic teleportation powers, that was impossible. Still, she had to smile as she pictured the cute worried expression on Percy's face, that one where his eyebrows scrunched together.

"No! Just give me a minute!" she said again, although she wasn't sure if she was talking to Percy or his dad.

"Annabeth, I can't allow this kind of behavior," Chiron warned her sternly. "You're supposed to be setting an example. Please open the door."

There were a few seconds of muffled conversation outside, and she heard Percy say quietly, "Look, I know you're mad at me, Annabeth, but I just want to talk, okay? I don't even care if it _is_ Jason with you." He paused. "Okay, maybe I care a little. But I care a _lot_ more about you, Wise Girl, so even if you tell me you and Jason have decided to run away to Olympus together, I'll deal with it. Now will you please open the door before Chiron goes into overprotective centaur mode and busts it down?"

It was so absurd that Annabeth laughed. If she'd thought Percy locked himself in a room with Reyna, she probably would have "dealt with it" by stabbing them both. He'd just made her decision for her.

"You're a better person than I am, Percy. Remember, Athena always has a plan," she said softly through the door, still chuckling.

"Annabeth?" Percy asked warily. She realized that although she'd been trying for something semi-profound, she'd probably come off as a little crazy instead. That was fair; "crazy" described their relationship better than "profound" anyway. "What are you talking about? You're scaring me a little. And I faced Kronos, like, ten times," he added nervously, trying to joke. It wasn't working, but she loved him for trying.

She didn't bother answering, too busy searching the room for her laptop bag. No way was she leaving Daedalus' laptop behind. Poseidon found it first and handed it to her, grinning that lop-sided Percy-grin again.

Annabeth heard scuffling outside the door and knew it was now or never. She abandoned any pretense of deep, serious insight in favor of making sure Percy couldn't misinterpret her (hopefully temporary) last words to him. "Take care of yourself, Seaweed Brain. And listen to Reyna; you're going to need someone to keep you alive, and she seems to know what's up."

With that, Annabeth grabbed Poseidon's hand. Her room dissolved around her just as the door crashed to the floor.

Her last coherent thought was that they probably wouldn't even be that worried about her vanishing. They'd be too busy worrying she'd completely lost her mind, because she'd just said something nice about Reyna.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hopefully that worked out all right! This comes with an even-more-GIGANTIC-than-usual thank you to bibliophile114, because it involved beta reading, endless discussion, _and_ every-other-sentence spaz attacks. Normally I try to limit my writing to about five spaz attacks per chapter; thanks for still talking to me after all that!**

**Also, one part of the endless discussion focused on whether or not to continue this (either here, or as a separate story), and if so, then what POV to use for it. So, if you have any input, I'd love to hear it! We talked about either doing a split POV between Annabeth and then Athena or Percy, or just keeping it all in Annabeth's POV, or just keeping it as a oneshot and leaving it here. I think it would essentially become an AU version of Mark of Athena if it continued, so if you've had more than enough MoA fics, keep that in mind!**

**Thanks, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed reading!  
><strong>


	3. Definitely Not Helping Hera

Piper watched Percy worriedly. When they'd first discovered Annabeth's disappearance, he'd gone into some sort of shock. When he and Chiron had burst into her room to find it empty, Chiron had immediately started interrogating Piper, asking her to recount what she'd heard a million times. But Percy had just sat on Annabeth's bed, staring blankly at the wall.

Piper thought he was doing better now, though. The blank look was gone. It'd been replaced by some sort of fierce determination, and now he was pacing the deck of the _Argo II,_ looking for all the world like he was ready to take on the entire giant army himself to get her back. It would have been sweet, Piper reflected, if he hadn't been eyeing Riptide quite so…well, _thoughtfully_.

Almost all the Greek campers and quite a few of the Romans were assembled on the _Argo _by now. Reyna and Jason had been trying to organize some semblance of a war council to discuss what had happened to Annabeth, but so far, it wasn't working too well.

"Guys!" shouted Jason. "GUYS!"

She tried not to smile as she watched him wave his arms for everyone's attention. He definitely had the looks of a Roman statue, but apparently he also had the communication skills of one too. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention.

He glanced at her desperately, and she sighed. Time to earn her paycheck, if saving the world ever became a profitable career. It did have a decent "friends and family are still alive" benefit package.

Piper whistled loudly. The noise died down a little, but just to be sure, she poured on the charmspeak. "I think we should all listen to Jason and Reyna now."

The crowd was suddenly silent. She smirked at Jason. He rolled his eyes, but he mouthed _Thank you _at her nonetheless.

Piper shook her head. _Boys_.

"Okay, obviously we're all worried about Annabeth, and we have no idea what happened to her—" Jason started, but Connor Stoll cut him off.

"Speak for yourself! Twenty bucks says Daedalus figured out teleportation. That's going to come in _so handy_," Connor said excitedly. When Chiron caught his eye, he quickly added, "For, um, battle stuff, obviously. Fighting and killing and maiming and saving civilization and everything."

"Annabeth would be back by now if she was testing something like that," growled Clarisse, punching Connor in the arm. He shot her a look that promised revenge, and Piper decided not to be anywhere near Clarisse for the next few days. "Besides, it doesn't matter. We should be focusing on getting her back! Why are we just sitting here, _talking_ about things?"

"We have no idea where she is," said Jason patiently. "That's why we're here. Does anyone have any clue where she might have gone?"

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?" said Drew haughtily.

All attention was suddenly focused on her. Piper tried not to care that Drew was clearly enjoying every second of it.

"What do you mean? You know what happened to her?" asked Jason.

Drew scoffed. She started ticking things off on her fingers. "Let's review the facts. 1: Annabeth has been, like, totally moody since we got here. 2: Annabeth and Percy have a fight. 3: Annabeth is heard talking to a definitely-not-Percy boy in her room. 4: Annabeth and boy vanish without a trace. Let's be real. Annabeth doesn't _want_ to be found."

Voices overlapped each other to protest angrily, but one cut above the rest.

"Are you seriously suggesting Annabeth skipped out on saving the world to run away with another guy?" asked Percy quietly. Despite his tone, though, he somehow made the words sound dangerous. It might have had something to do with the way he still had Riptide clenched in his fist, Piper reflected. She'd only really spoken to Percy once before this, when Annabeth had introduced him, but he'd seemed pretty friendly. Almost too nice to be the savior of Olympus. Now, though, she could clearly see the boy who'd taken on Titans single-handedly. It was kind of scary.

No, she amended as she watched him walk slowly toward Drew. _Definitely_ scary.

"I think we have to consider the possibility," Drew sniffed. She was trying to play it off like Percy didn't scare her, but Piper could tell she was terrified. It was too bad the situation was too serious for Piper to really enjoy it. She'd just have to remember this for later. "And who knows who he even was? For all we know she's sitting down with Gaea right now, telling her everything she knows—"

Drew didn't make it to the end of her sentence. Jason and Reyna had stepped in front of Percy to make sure he didn't run her through with his sword, but they hadn't counted on the real threat: Clarisse. In two seconds flat, Drew was on her back and Clarisse was shaking a fist in her face.

"What was that, Barbie wannabe? Because I know you were _not_ about to suggest Annabeth was a TRAITOR, right?" Clarisse yelled at her.

Drew seemed paralyzed, because otherwise Piper was sure she would have been charmspeaking her way out of this. The image of Clarisse pinning down a speechless Drew was another one Piper was going to have to save for later. Why couldn't these things happen when her friends weren't mysteriously vanishing?

When no one made any move to pull Clarisse off Drew, Chiron stepped in. "Clarisse! Release her!"

Clarisse didn't react. Next to her, Frank was shifting uncomfortably, like he was afraid someone was going to ask him to deal with his half-sister. Some of the campers were clearly not intervening because they were on Clarisse's side, but Piper suspected Frank's reasons were more along the lines of, "I think she could tear me in half with one hand tied behind her back."

"Clarisse! Now!"

Clarisse looked up at Chiron fiercely. He held her gaze, not even blinking.

Finally, before anyone could stop her, Clarisse snarled in disgust and pounded her fist into the deck right by Drew's ear. But she stalked away without actually harming Drew, so Piper was giving the point to Chiron.

"Um, maybe we avoid words like 'traitor' around Clarisse?" said Leo. "Just a suggestion from a guy who likes his head attached to the rest of him."

"Drew has a point, though," Hazel spoke up softly. She flinched as everyone turned accusingly toward her. She held up her hands in defense. "Not about Annabeth being a traitor or anything! I just meant we can't ignore that Gaea might have captured her. She's one of the best strategists we have."

Reyna looked like she was going to argue for a minute, but then she sighed heavily. "If we're going up against Annabeth, we might as well give up now."

Everyone stared at her in shock. Reyna and Annabeth had been arguing nonstop since the _Argo_ had landed. If even _she_ was worried…

"Don't be ridiculous," said Jason brusquely. "We'll get her back. Wherever she's gone, it's just a matter of time. We _will_ find her."

There were nods and reassured murmurs from the crowd. Percy, however, didn't seem all that comforted. "Shouldn't that be my line?" he asked, his eyes trained almost-but-not-quite suspiciously on Jason.

Oh, great. Piper had forgotten about Percy's little speech at Annabeth's door a few minutes ago. Jealousy was alive and well on the _Argo II_, apparently.

She was about to step in herself before it could get worse when a bright light appeared next to them. Piper shielded her eyes, and when she'd finally blinked the black spots out of her vision, she recognized the beautiful, dark-haired goddess. Hera.

Oh, _great_.

"Something appears to be amiss here, doesn't it, my heroes?" Hera asked mildly. There was a glint in her eye that Piper really didn't like. "I'm having some trouble locating one of your companions. Now, where is that daughter of Athena, I wonder?"

Piper wasn't sure what Hera was expecting. Like they'd just been hiding Annabeth, and now that she'd asked, Annabeth would jump out and shout, "Here I am!"?

"We could ask you the same thing," said Percy, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally that might not have been impressive, but he did it without dropping Riptide for even a second. "Aren't you a goddess? I don't remember you having any problem finding her when you needed to send cows after her."

Hera raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps you weren't listening. I can't seem to locate her. I'm hoping I'm simply mistaken, however. Surely she's here somewhere. After all, where else could she possibly be?"

Percy held her gaze steadily. "How should we know? Seems like a lot of demigods have been disappearing lately. Who was responsible for that, again?"

Hera's tone turned cold. "Watch yourself, Percy Jackson." She looked at the rest of the campers. "So no one knows where the girl has gone?"

No one answered, but it was pretty obvious what everyone was thinking: _would we be here right now if we did?_

"Highly suspicious, to vanish today of all days," Hera mused icily. "In fact, some might say a little too suspicious to be believable. And seeing as I'm a millennia-old goddess, I think it's safe to say I wasn't born yesterday."

She snapped her fingers abruptly, and a second later, another dark-haired woman appeared next to her.

"You called, My Lady?" asked the other woman. "I do hope I was able to arrive quickly enough. I was instructed to stay safely on Olympus, you know, so I thought perhaps your summons was a clever plot by the giants to lure me away. After all, I think we all know how easily they can trap goddesses."

Piper stifled a giggle. Hera didn't like that _at all_.

"I can't seem to find your daughter, Athena," said Hera, ignoring the dig. "Tell me, how is that possible?"

Athena shrugged. "How should I know? As I've said, I was ordered to remain on Olympus. And I would never disregard Lord Zeus' wishes."

Was it just her, or had Athena emphasized "Lord Zeus" slightly? By the way Hera bristled, Piper thought it probably wasn't just her.

"No, of course you wouldn't," said Hera tightly. "But I know of very few ways for a demigod to be hidden from my sight. Typically, of course, a god—or goddess—is the culprit."

"You may stop your insinuations," said Athena, unconcerned. "I have not hidden her."

"You," snapped Hera, and Piper was shocked to discover the goddess was pointing at _her_.

Piper gulped. What could she have done wrong in the ten seconds since Hera had shown up? She might have almost giggled at Athena's insult, but the Stoll brothers had been flat-out laughing. If she had to, she'd sell them out in a second. "Um, yes, Lady Hera?"

"You confronted the girl when she came onboard the ship," Hera said. Piper nodded, mostly out of relief. Hera obviously wasn't asking a question. "What exactly did she say?"

"Not much," Piper said honestly. "I just heard her scream, so I went to her room to make sure she was okay. And…" She glanced over at Percy, but he was still staring resolutely at Hera, so she continued. "I thought I could hear someone in the room with Annabeth. A boy."

"And you didn't think to investigate further?" asked Hera sharply.

"No, I thought it was…" Piper trailed off as Athena caught her eye and shook her head once, swiftly. Piper stumbled. "Uh, I thought it was nothing. I didn't want to get Annabeth in trouble for nothing."

"But definitely male?" asked Hera. Her gaze was piercing, and Piper found she couldn't look away.

"Yes," Piper said. She fought the urge to look over at Athena to make sure that was the right answer. "That's what I thought, anyway."

Hera turned back to Athena, who was examining the ship around her like she couldn't be more bored. "I can check if you've left Olympus, you know."

"You'll find nothing," said Athena. "I have not left the war room. And what reason could I possibly have to assume a male form? This is likely a trick of the giants. They know the mission cannot succeed without the full seven, and while we waste time accusing each other, they have already begun celebrating their victory."

Hera stared her down. "I _will_ find out if you are involved in this."

Athena was about to respond, but to everyone's surprise, Percy jumped in before she could. "Annabeth is _missing_! Why would Athena kidnap her own daughter? I don't know what your problem is, but you'd better get over it! I'm not going to stand here and listen to you argue when we could be out _finding my girlfriend._"

The two goddesses were shocked into silence.

"Okay, Percy, chill," said Will Solace nervously. "We all want Annabeth back, okay? We didn't give up on you, and we aren't going to give up on her. But you need to get a grip on yourself, man. You're not going to be able to help her if you're a mess."

Percy took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Sorry. It's just that I finally found her again, and now…"

Frank patted his shoulder. "We know. And trust me, when we find out who took her, we'll give you the first shot. Promise."

Piper looked over at Athena to find her smiling faintly, like that amused her. As soon as she saw Piper looking, though, Athena wiped the smile off her face. Maybe she'd imagined it?

Percy managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Frank. Really."

Hera gave one last critical glance around the ship. "One thing is certain: she is not here. I will return to Olympus and see what I can discover. Perhaps there is some clue there."

"Check all you wish. I did not leave," Athena told her.

Hera flushed. Clearly that was exactly what she'd meant by "some clue."

"I will be back," she promised, and they all hurriedly averted their eyes as she left.

"You always are, you arrogant cow," muttered Athena. When she noticed everyone gaping at her, she apologized. "I'm sorry. I've been told I shouldn't say things like that. It really is quite disrespectful of me. And those poor cows are burdened so much already."

Piper decided she liked the goddess of wisdom. She also decided she was going to do her best to stay on Athena's good side, which was why she really should have thought for a second before she blurted out, "You know where Annabeth is, don't you?"

Once again everyone was gaping at the goddess. Piper gulped and tried to clarify. "I mean, you lied to Hera. Didn't you?"

Athena's stare was even more piercing than Hera's. "At no point did I lie to her. And I honestly do not know where my daughter is. As for her companion…" Athena's gaze darkened. "I intend to get to the bottom of _that_ immediately."

"Wait," said Percy incredulously. "You mean I just defended you to Hera, and you knew about this all along? How could you do that to Annabeth?"

"No, Percy," said Athena, a little less severely. "I knew nothing of this, I assure you. But I do have a slightly more informed guess than Lady Hera. We must move quickly, however, before she is no longer distracted on Olympus. Does someone have a drachma and some form of mist?"

Travis quickly passed her a handful of coins, and for once no one questioned exactly where he'd gotten them. Percy himself made a mist from the water of the lake below them.

"O, Iris, you wishy-washy hippie of a rainbow goddess, show me my daughter Annabeth," Athena said, tossing the drachma into the mist.

"Uh, Iris doesn't actually handle most Iris Messages—" started Percy, but Piper personally thought maybe he should have been focusing a little more on how Athena was addressing the goddess and a little less on the specifics of the messaging system.

To both their surprise, however, a middle-aged woman in traditional hippie garb appeared in the mist.

"I'm 'non-violent,' not 'wishy-washy,'" she informed Athena archly. "And if_ I_ were a goddess of battle strategy, I would be a little more considerate when I needed something. I don't suppose you're thinking about retirement and want me to take over? It might be nice to have a goddess of battle strategy with a slightly more progressive position on battle avoidance."

"I need to speak with my daughter," Athena said, ignoring her.

"Then you need a location," Iris replied. "And a much better attitude. Go with the flow, Athena. Oh, sorry, you don't like water metaphors, do you?"

Athena's jaw tightened. "I need to speak with my daughter," she repeated.

Iris seemed to finally grasp how serious Athena was, because she said slowly, "Well, I could maybe do a limited connection. No video, you understand, only audio." She paused. "But I just don't know…"

Athena tossed another drachma into the mist.

"Oh, thank you, but I'm afraid money is just a tool of the military-industrial complex," Iris said brightly. "Perhaps something a little less confining?"

Athena pursed her lips. Piper thought she heard her growl slightly too. "Fine. I'll support your godsforsaken gluten-free ambrosia plan for Olympus."

"Anything for a fellow gluten-free supporter!" chirped Iris, and her image faded. A picture of Annabeth replaced it, but not the usual direct IM image. This was more like a photograph. The kind of picture you get taken at school, where it's just your face smiling at the camera.

Suddenly Annabeth's voice came through loud and clear. "—I told you, it just doesn't feel right. I mean, it's fine for _you_; you run off with girls all the time, I'm sure. But my mother is going to _kill_ me."

"And why might I do that, Annabeth?" asked Athena.

On the other end of the line, Piper heard Annabeth squeak. "Mother!" There was a sudden flurry of shuffling sounds, and Piper could imagine Annabeth searching wildly for the source of her mother's voice. "Um, where are you?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Where are _you_?" asked Athena. "That seems to be the more pressing question here at Camp Jupiter."

There was silence on Annabeth's end.

"Yes, you remember Camp Jupiter, don't you?" continued Athena. "Your friends, your boyfriend—"

"Percy's there?" Annabeth interrupted. "Tell him I'm so sorry, and I swear it's not what he's thinking _at all_."

"I wasn't thinking anything," Percy rushed to assure her. "I'm sure you have a logical explanation. You always do." He paused. "Just, um, you're okay and everything, right? And that guy, whoever he is, he's friendly, right?"

On Annabeth's side of the IM, Piper could hear a decidedly male chuckle.

"That's debatable," Annabeth said dryly. Her tone softened. "Yes, Percy, I'm fine. I just needed to go do something. Um, kind of suddenly."

_Too suddenly to explain anything to us?_ Piper wanted to ask. _Too suddenly to keep your boyfriend from going out of his mind with worry?_

She didn't say anything, though. Piper might not have been a daughter of Athena, but she was smart enough to know this conversation didn't include her.

"I wish to speak with him," Athena cut in.

"Uh, he doesn't look too crazy about that idea," said Annabeth nervously.

"Perhaps I was unclear," said Athena. The steel in her voice made Piper uncomfortable. "I _demand_ to speak with him."

"For the record, I didn't kidnap her. Much," said the voice Piper had heard in Annabeth's room earlier. She glanced at Percy. If the IM had been distorting voices, she would have sworn it was Percy on the other end. Apparently Percy thought so too, because his jaw was pretty much on the deck.

"Okay, who _are_ you?" he demanded.

"You can call me 'Don,'" the guy replied. He sounded amused, like this was some fantastic joke no one else understood.

"That's not clever," said Athena, glaring at the mist of the IM.

"It is! You just don't understand," Don insisted. "You see, 'Don' is used as a term of respect in the Italian-based mob syndicate, and since Annabeth refused to show disrespect by calling me anything other than 'Lord,' it's actually quite appropriate—"

"It's not clever," Athena said firmly, but she was drowned out by Percy's sudden realization.

"Wait, _Dad_?" he exclaimed, staring in shock at the IM.

Oh. Whoops. This was the sort of messed up family phone call you started to take for granted with Olympian parents. "What'd you do today?" "Oh, nothing much, just found out my girlfriend ran off with my dad. Or maybe my dad kidnapped her. Either way, I'm just relieved my great-grandmother isn't holding her prisoner underneath the Earth!"

"Hi, Percy. Sorry I didn't get a chance to say hello earlier, but we were on a tight schedule," Poseidon said cheerfully. "Speaking of, we should probably be getting back to that. We don't want the old peacock catching wind of our disappearance."

"Too late," Athena informed him. "I thought you were going to speak with my daughter, not abduct her."

"Well, yes, that _was_ the initial plan." Poseidon sounded a little sheepish. "But it soon became obvious your daughter is even more stubborn than you are. Imagine my surprise."

Iris' image appeared in the corner of the IM, clearing her throat impatiently and looking significantly at her wrist. Apparently there was only so much she was willing to do to push her gluten-free agenda.

"He just offered to help," said Annabeth, oblivious to Iris' prodding. "Really. Don't blame him for this; I was going one way or another. Just…please don't look for us. I'm sorry, I really am, but this is something I have to do on my own." She hesitated, then amended, "Well, mostly on my own. It might actually be easier on my own."

She'd said that last part under her breath, but everyone still caught it.

"Oh, are you still upset about that little money mix-up?" asked Poseidon exasperatedly. "You have to admit, 'euro' sounds an awful lot like 'gyro.'"

"And why would someone selling maps want to be paid in gyros? Don't you think it's maybe a little suspicious for someone to be carrying around five fresh gyros in the first place?"

"Next time he should speak more clearly. Besides, I personally would have been delighted if someone had bartered five gyros for one of my maps. Gyros have a long and storied history as the food of the gods, you know."

"How is that possible when you can't even eat them?"

"You know very well I can smell them if someone throws them on a fire—"

The rest of Poseidon's protest was lost as Iris shrugged apologetically and the IM winked out.

"No, wait!" cried Percy desperately. It was too late, though. The IM was gone.

Athena looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. It was a risk for Iris to hold it even that long, knowing Hera will be searching for them herself. And as I suspect your father is masking their location, we're lucky Iris was able to find them at all."

Percy ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Piper was pretty sure he'd forgotten he had an audience of Romans and Greeks, but maybe he just didn't care. The other campers were all trying to blend into the background anyway, like they _really_ didn't want him to notice them now. She knew how they felt. Something about this felt too personal to watch.

Clearly Athena disagreed, however.

"There was no need to say goodbye," she said, clapping her hands loudly. Everyone jumped to attention. "We're going after them."

"Um, didn't Annabeth say not to look for them?" asked Malcolm, although he seemed incredibly reluctant to contradict his mother. Piper didn't blame him. She'd been thinking the same thing, but something about Athena discouraged questions.

"Of course," Athena said briskly. "But if we just happen to be in the same place they are and stumble across them, well, that's hardly our fault, is it?"

Piper looked around. A few of the other campers were staring at Athena like she'd gone insane, but no one said anything. She caught Jason's eye. He shrugged. It was Jason-speak for, _I'm not sure about this, but I really can't stop it anyway._ She was about to ask what that meant (if anyone could stop it, after all, Jason could) when she happened to glance over at Percy.

Suddenly it was pretty obvious what Jason meant. Percy's expression said it all: no one was getting between him and a chance to get Annabeth back.

Not that it would have mattered even if they _could_ have talked him out of it. Charmspeak did wonders, but it probably didn't work on goddesses. And for once, Percy and Athena appeared to be in complete agreement.

"So where do we start?" Piper heard herself ask.

Athena smiled. "Italy. Your father really is too clever for his own good," she told Percy.

"That's debatable," he answered dryly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this story finally, maybe, sort of has a direction! I'm really sorry it took so long to get there; this was actually accidentally saved when my computer crashed, or it would have taken even longer. Thank the gods for small mercies, huh? As always, thanks so much to my beta reader, bibliophile114, for looking over this with undeserved patience and for accepting (and even being supportive!) when it was written in Piper's POV. Percy's thoughts will be coming soon, I promise! (Although there was a comment about reading Percy in the voice of Paige O'Hara from Beauty and the Beast, and it was so perfect that now it's all I can think when I write him. So if suddenly Percy starts singing about wanting to escape the dreadfully boring life of a typical French maiden, you'll know why.)**

**Thanks also to everyone for their input on the last chapter, as well as everyone who favorited/alerted/etc.! I really hope this chapter met expectations, and you enjoyed reading it!**


	4. Helping Yourself

"Where on Earth..." Annabeth muttered to herself, rooting under the bed in the hotel room for the nine hundredth time. She hadn't left the room since she'd been reading the Rome guide book last night, but for the life of her, she couldn't find it anywhere. It was almost eight AM, which meant Poseidon would be here any minute, and she'd been hoping to be ready to go on time this morning. She'd already switched her usual morning shower for a quick late-night shower instead. Time was a particularly fluid concept for the gods. So if Poseidon said "eight o'clock," and you were in the shower at seven, there was no guarantee he wouldn't be walking in on you. Once was more than enough to be showering in front of your boyfriend's dad, thank you very much.

It wouldn't have been a problem, Annabeth grumbled to herself, if he ever showed up anywhere but the bathroom. He'd given her some explanation about being attracted to the plumbing in the walls, but she'd been unimpressed. She'd known Percy for too long. It was clear his love of toilet humor was inherited.

Wait! The bathroom! Annabeth hadn't checked there yet. Maybe she'd brought the guide book in as light reading at some point? She'd been running on so few hours of sleep the past few nights that she could easily have spaced out on it...

She jerked open the bathroom door and immediately shrieked.

"Aren't you supposed to knock first?" asked Poseidon, curled up on the toilet and idly flipping through the pages of something that looked suspiciously like her guide book.

Horrified, Annabeth slammed the door shut with all the force she could muster.

"You do realize I have no need to actually use the toilet, don't you? You're perfectly welcome to make yourself at home."

Gods, she could actually _hear_ the smirk in his voice. If Annabeth had been hoping for a more mature version of Percy when she agreed to go on this little jaunt, she'd been sadly mistaken. Poseidon was like Percy if people had been praying to him for a few millennia no matter what he did. It was infuriating. There were only so many times you could pretend you thought water hitting people in the seat of their pants wasn't totally juvenile.

Annabeth took a deep breath, determined not to be intimidated. She summoned as much dignity as she could and slowly opened the door again.

Poseidon was chuckling as he looked at the book. "Oh, if Apollo only knew that _that's_ what you think happened..."

"I've been looking for that all morning, you know," Annabeth said, much more calmly than she felt. "Maybe you could give it back?"

Poseidon glanced up. "Did you know people actually think there was no godly involvement in the Flavian Amphitheater?"

Annabeth felt her jaw twitch. "I suspect it's one of the many fascinating things I could learn if I had a guide book to read."

"And their account of the Second Punic War? Who do they think encouraged Hannibal to use a land route with elephants in the first place?" Poseidon shook his head in disbelief. "The things you learn when you actually read these books."

"I wouldn't know," said Annabeth dryly.

Poseidon continued to ignore her. That was another thing she'd learned: he wasn't great at picking up on sarcasm. He clearly hadn't visited his son often enough.

"Oh, _la_ _Fontana di Trevi_," Poseidon said with a sigh. "I have such a weakness for a beautiful fountain."

Annabeth clenched her teeth. "Just for beautiful _fountains_?"

This time he did finally look up. "I'm sorry, but four thousand-year-old habits do not simply vanish overnight. I apologized to both you and the young woman yesterday."

Annabeth sighed. He had, but she didn't have to be a daughter of Hermes to know the safe bet was that as soon as he'd left last night, he'd tracked down the girl he'd been ogling all day. It was just creepy. It was a good thing Poseidon was one of the gods with a sense of humor, or she'd probably have been blasted a million times over for all her "you're old enough to be her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather!" comments. (It didn't help that his response was always, "If she's truly Roman, there's a pretty good chance I actually am." Ew.)

"Look, I don't care what you do, um, _after-hours_," Annabeth said. "I just want my book back. Please?"

Poseidon watched her closely for a second, then handed the book over. "I'm sorry."

She got the feeling he wasn't apologizing for taking the book, but she didn't press it. "Well, thanks," she said awkwardly. She cleared her throat. "So, where are we going to look today?"

Poseidon ran a hand through his short, dark hair to rub the back of his neck. Annabeth couldn't help the quick, traitorous _Oh, Percy, I miss you so much_ that pounded through her skull even as she shook it off. "I was thinking, if you didn't have someplace else in mind..."

Annabeth hid a small smile. "Well, now that you mention it, there's actually this fantastic library that I think would be _perfect_."

Poseidon's face fell, just as Percy's always did when a library was mentioned.

And just like when Percy did it, the whipped puppy face convinced her to put him out of his misery. "But we'd have to walk past the Trevi Fountain to get there, as long as you didn't mind-"

Annabeth somehow knew she wasn't going to get to finish that sentence.

* * *

><p>They never actually <em>walked<em> anywhere, she reflected, staring at the Fountain. Poseidon just whisked her away to wherever she wanted to go. Annabeth actually had to force him to let her do normal things, like sleep in a hotel room or stick to some sort of schedule. She finally got her way when she argued he couldn't be with her at all times; someone would notice, and he shouldn't be neglecting his godly duties anyway. He'd tried arguing that he was only one aspect of Poseidon, blah blah blah, but she knew enough from her mom to frown at him disapprovingly. There were certain tasks like, oh just off the top of her head, _mastery of the sea_ that sort of required huge amounts of brain power. And given the maturity level she'd seen lately, Poseidon couldn't afford to spare any.

"It _is_ gorgeous," Annabeth admitted to herself, staring at the intricacies of the Fountain.

"Isn't it?" asked a young man off to her left. "I'm surprised, given the Yankees cap in your pocket. Not many Americans truly appreciate the Trevi Fountain's beauty."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not like most Americans."

He chuckled. "I can see that." He held out his hand. "I'm Mario."

Annabeth forced down the image of him in overalls jumping over mushrooms. "Annabeth. Nice to meet you, even if you do make sweeping nationalistic generalizations with no evidence."

"Hey, I have evidence," Mario protested. "My mom's American. Well, mostly. And anyway, I've seen more Americans at this fountain than you've probably ever met, and they all just want to make their wish and run off to eat pizza. Until they realize what we consider pizza here."

"Oh? And when the pretty girls wish for a charming Italian man to sweep them off their feet?" Annabeth asked pointedly.

He didn't even have the decency to blush. "Who am I to crush their dreams?"

She rolled her eyes. Apparently men the world over were pigs. No wonder Circe's spells had thrived across the continents. "Tell me something."

"Anything," Mario said, smiling confidently.

"Do they ever dump you once they find out you spend your entire day hanging out at a fountain looking to pick up girls?" Annabeth asked idly, turning her attention back to the fountain's sculptures.

"That's what the accent's for," Mario replied. "It helps if you say something in Italian every so often too."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "_Vappa ac nebulo_."

Mario snorted in surprise. "Close, but that's not Italian."

"Sure it is. Latin is the original Italian."

"You know Latin?"

"Enough to call you a scumbag," she said with a shrug. "But to be fair, that's one of the first things I learned."

"Call a lot of guys scumbags, do you?"

Annabeth stared into the fountain. "Let's just say I had my reasons, considering the circumstances under which I was learning the language."

An awkward silence stretched between them until Mario cleared his throat to ask, "So, first time seeing the Fountain, then?"

She smiled. "First time in person, yeah. I actually used the design for a fountain on Olymp-um, on an architectural project. For school."

Mario nodded, not catching the slip-up. "Impressive. I used it for my own architecture class, actually."

"You take architecture?" Annabeth asked, giving him her full attention for the first time. "At school?"

"It's a university program," he explained. "I'm hoping to be a classical architect when I graduate. I love the look of the ancient styles. I actually just got back from spending a few months in Crete as an exchange student to get a closer look at Greek architecture."

"Wow," Annabeth said breathlessly. "I would _love_-"

"Annabeth!" interrupted Poseidon jovially, suddenly appearing next to her. "Why, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

She stared at him oddly. "No, you haven't. I'm right where I was when _you_ left-"

"And who might this fellow be?" he asked, talking over her. He held out his hand to Mario. "Hello, son!"

Mario looked a little freaked out, possibly because an eighteen-year-old guy had just started acting like her dad. Annabeth took a small step toward him to introduce him, but suddenly Poseidon's arm was around her shoulders, holding her in place. She glared at him icily, but before she could tell him exactly what she thought of this, Mario smiled.

"I'm Mario," he said brightly, taking Poseidon's hand. "Your girlfriend and I were just discussing architecture."

"I'm not his-"

"So I heard!" Poseidon said over her again. Annabeth started grinding her teeth, hoping he could somehow literally _feel_ her annoyance. "The name's Don. Seems like we can't go anywhere without Annabeth stopping to admire the native scenery!"

Annabeth felt her jaw drop. He couldn't _possibly_ be insinuating...

"Oh, no, perfectly understandable," Mario replied. "The Fountain has always been one of my all-time favorite attractions in Rome."

She wondered if she'd break the fountain if she started banging her head against it repeatedly. It was about the only thing she could reach with Poseidon's death grip on her shoulders.

"Ours too," Poseidon agreed. "But I'm afraid we're in a bit of a hurry today, so we'll have to see it again some other time."

"Of course," said Mario easily. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

He was looking at Annabeth as he said it, but Poseidon either deliberately misinterpreted or honestly assumed everyone was thrilled to meet him in person. "The pleasure was all mine, Fabio."

"Mario," the guy corrected automatically.

"That's what I said," Poseidon said cheerfully as he started dragging Annabeth away.

"I'm sorry about this! It was nice to meet you too!" she called behind her.

"You might want to change your pants!" was Poseidon's final advice, and Annabeth watched in horror as a jet of water shot from the fountain and soaked the front of Mario's khakis.

Annabeth tried to apologize hurriedly again, but Poseidon whipped the words right out of her mouth with a sharp tug of her (now probably dislocated) arm. He didn't let up until they'd gone about a quarter mile from the Trevi Fountain. There, Poseidon abruptly stopped and turned to face her.

"Just what was that?" they both demanded at the same time.

Annabeth fumed. "What was _what_? You're the one who swooped in, acting like a complete jerk! You're not my boyfriend!"

"No, I'm not," Poseidon snapped. "Last time I checked, my son was. Although judging by the way you were flirting with that boy, maybe my information is out of date!"

Annabeth just stared. "What is that supposed to mean? Of course Percy's my boyfriend! And I was not flirting! I don't even know _how_ to flirt!"

"Well, Fabio clearly doesn't have the same problem," Poseidon shot back. "You may know how the modern world works, my dear, but I know men. And they haven't changed in four thousand years!"

Annabeth stood there, flabbergasted. Had Mario been flirting with her? Her only real experience with that was Percy, and for them, flirting was not punching each other quite as hard as they could have. Looking bad, she supposed it was possible. And if so, she probably should have cut him off and explained she was seeing someone. She hadn't even liked the scumbag until he mentioned architecture, though, and then she was always excited to talk about architecture...

"Well, you're one to talk!" she finally managed, even though she'd originally been planning to apologize. "I'm sorry" just didn't seem to be in her vocabulary lately. You know, for the past seventeen years or so.

Poseidon raised an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

"Where did you run off to as soon as we saw the fountain?" she challenged.

He colored slightly, but she wasn't sure if that was from embarrassment or anger. Right now, she didn't care, either. "It really is absolutely none of your business, you know."

She snorted. "Right. Not my business. Not my business why you're ditching me in the middle of Rome and then lecturing me on finally talking to someone my own age?"

"No," Poseidon said sharply. "It's none of your business at all. And if you can't manage to keep your thoughts to yourself, I am more than capable of keeping you silent _myself_!"

"Oh yeah? What would you possibly do about it?" Before she'd even had time to think, she watched her finger poke Poseidon in the chest. Hard.

His expression grew stormy, and for a second he seemed to grow in size. Anger and power radiated off him like heat. He looked, she realized, like his brother Zeus. "Have you truly forgotten what I am capable of?" he thundered, frightening a little boy who was drawing on the sidewalk beside them. That seemed to snap him back to reality, and he almost deflated right before her eyes.

Annabeth swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to bow. "No, of course...well, actually, yes," she admitted. "I'm...I'm sorry, but when you're walking around Rome with me, dressed like that" -she indicated his jeans and Nike sweatshirt- "it's easy to forget who you really are. You just seem like..."

"Percy," he finished for her, sighing.

She looked up, surprised. "I was going to say 'a normal teenager,' actually."

Poseidon smiled slightly. "I suppose that's more or less the same thing. I apologize as well. I should not have reacted so...strongly. I know you have been nothing but loyal to my son, as he has been to you. Still, I would think you of all people would appreciate my attire. Considering there's a very good chance Nike's father is being reborn to exact revenge on your mother, we should really do our best to keep the goddess of victory on our side."

Annabeth laughed. "Isn't that usually a good thing no matter what? And anyway, does she really like such a giant corporation?"

Poseidon shrugged. "It did claim victory over its competitors, did it not?"

"True," she acknowledged. Ignoring the strange looks from the people in the street, she did finally bow. "I sincerely apologize for my behavior, Lord Poseidon."

"And I for mine, Lady Annabeth," he said, mocking her with a quick bow of his own.

She smiled softly. She liked the easy banter they had, even if he'd never be Percy. It was too bad he was also a slightly unstable, all-powerful god. She wondered if they would ever hit just the right balance between the two. Just because Poseidon had a sense of humor, it didn't mean he was also immune to perceived slights against him. Maybe there was a gyro somewhere she could burn for him.

"So, shall we continue our search for whatever it is that was supposed to bring you to Rome?" Poseidon asked, offering his arm.

"Sure," Annabeth said. She tried not to sound as discouraged as she felt. "Since our first three days have been _so_ successful."

"I may actually have something to help with that," he told her with a twinkle in his eye. "I don't imagine you hear this often, but you were wrong. For once I was disappearing for a completely legitimate reason. Well, mostly legitimate," he amended at her disbelieving stare. "The girl was remarkably good-looking, and her father owns a fleet of ships so fast you could swear they fly..."

Annabeth held in a sigh and tried not to let her mind drift halfway across the world to another ship you'd swear could fly.

* * *

><p>"I can stay, if you want," offered Poseidon reluctantly, already edging toward the door. "I mean, I know it's perfectly safe, and you're much better at this book work than I am, so I'd really be more of a hindrance than an actual help, but I'm completely willing to stay. If you honestly think it would help. And if you don't think I would simply get in the way. Which, to be honest, is likely to happen, wouldn't you say? So it's okay if I leave, then?"<p>

Annabeth tried not to roll her eyes. _He's a god,_ she told herself. _He can blast you to pieces. Disrespect is bad._ "Of course, Lord-um, Don. As you said, I suspect I'll accomplish much more here on my own."

Okay, so he hadn't said exactly that. But phrasing it as his idea meant he was much less likely to pick up on the fact that she'd technically just insulted him. Even if it was the truth. Along with their aversion to libraries, Poseidon and Percy also shared the same patience for reading. Percy couldn't hide behind the dyslexia excuse anymore; his brain might have been hardwired for Ancient Greek, but it was _definitely_ hardwired to avoid reading. He got that from his dad's side of the family.

"You're sure?" asked Poseidon, hesitating just a second longer.

She waved him out the door. "I've got stacks of books higher than my head. I won't even notice you're gone. Go."

"Yell if you need me!" he called back, already down the hall.

It turned out the girl Poseidon had met was the daughter of one of the most famous shipping magnates in all of Europe, Antonio del Mar. And despite how impressed Poseidon was with the del Mar fleet, he was even more impressed with the owner's eco-friendly business style. For the first time since they'd stepped foot in Rome, Poseidon was completely ignoring a pretty girl who was obviously flirting with him. The girl had given up after the tenth time she'd glanced at Annabeth with annoyance and hinted they go somewhere more private, and Poseidon had asked excitedly if that's where they kept the ship blueprints. (The girl had told him no, of course; it was just _more private_, but Poseidon had looked endearingly confused. He'd assured her that Annabeth could keep a secret; anything she had to say about the ship design, she could say in front of Annabeth. He looked even more confused when that didn't do anything to mollify the girl. For someone apparently so well versed in the art of romance, Poseidon's skills seemed a little rusty.)

As impressed as Poseidon had been with the man in charge, however, the man in charge has been ten times more impressed with Poseidon. Annabeth had chuckled as the middle-aged man started gushing over "how wonderful it was to see a young person taking such interest in the sea!" He'd immediately offered to show Poseidon around the inner workings of the company, and it was hard to tell which of them was more excited about it. Annabeth hadn't been as thrilled; dating Percy had gone a long way toward making her appreciate the ocean, sure, but she could still remember little things like seasickness and worrying her mother's immortal enemy would drown her the second she left land. She was much more at home in Signor del Mar's giant library, which supposedly held a clue about why she might be in Rome.

Luckily Signor del Mar had taken an instant liking to Poseidon's "delightful companion" as well. He immediately offered to let her stay in the library while he showed Poseidon around. He'd instructed her to inform his daughter if she needed anything (Annabeth had enjoyed snickering at the look on the girl's face at that). Otherwise, he said, just look out for all the nieces and nephews running around the house, and she should be fine.

With Poseidon finally leaving her to read in peace, she turned to the piles of books she'd selected. Currently she was reading an account by Virgil of the various ways the Greek religion had blended with other customs and deities in the region. It was fascinating, but not particularly unbiased, she mused. Still, it was beautiful in its original Latin, even if it turned out to be completely unhelpful. As a poet, Virgil certainly didn't lack a flair for the dramatic. Or hesitate to embellish the story to make for better reading.

"So, finally lose the old man?" asked a voice to her left.

She jumped and-though she would never admit it-shrieked a little. That was happening a lot today, she grumbled to herself. "You shouldn't talk about Signor del Mar that way," she snapped, searching for the voice.

A boy stepped out from behind a stack of books. A very familiar boy. "I wasn't talking about my uncle."

"What are _you_ doing here?" Annabeth asked sharply, staring at Mario. "Did you follow me?"

He laughed. "Hardly. If anything, _you _followed _me_. I don't spend all my time at the Fountain, you know. Eventually I have to sleep, and well, like I said." He shrugged. "My uncle."

Annabeth thought about that for a second. "How much did your parents hate you to name you 'Mario del Mar'?"

A flash of annoyance crossed his face. "My last name is actually Panzetti. Uncle Antonio is my half-uncle, technically. He took his mother's surname when he went into the shipping business. He thinks it's clever. I think it's annoying, since 'del Mar' isn't even Italian. But whatever."

"Touchy subject, huh?" asked Annabeth, raising an eyebrow. "Kind of petty, considering _your_ mother is American, isn't it?"

"What?" Mario asked, confused.

"Your mother. You said she was American earlier."

"Oh, right," he said, nodding. "I said 'mostly.' She was born here, but my grandfather sent her to boarding school in New York before she was even a teenager."

"So that's how you knew the Yankees," Annabeth realized. "So you're American too?"

"Kind of." He wrinkled his nose. "It's complicated. You know how messy extended families can get."

She didn't point out that his citizenship didn't really have anything to do with how messy his family was. Maybe she was getting better at these social skills after all. "Well, you talk like an American. You must have spent some time there."

Mario sighed. "I grew up there, actually. I moved to Italy to live with Uncle Antonio when I was thirteen. My father...well, he decided it would be better for everyone if I was closer to my mom."

He sounded bitter, and Annabeth tried not to relate. Her relationship with her own father had gotten so much better in the past few years that she made a conscious effort to ignore how much she used to resent him. Still, she couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I know how tough that must have been."

"Yeah, well." He didn't finish, so they sat there in awkward silence until Annabeth finally found something to say again.

"So your mom lives here in Italy, then?" she asked, then almost whacked herself in the forehead. If his mom was still around, why would he be living with his uncle? _Stupid, Annabeth. Stupid!_

Mario didn't seem offended, though. In fact, he instantly grinned widely. "No, but close. I get to visit her a lot. I can't stay with her full-time thanks to some old religious rules, but I don't mind. Soon we'll be together permanently."

"Oh, like when you graduate?" Annabeth asked, trying to keep the conversation in the light-hearted, "I have a parent I don't hate" territory.

"Yeah, you could say that," Mario said vaguely. He flipped through a book on one of the stacks before looking up at her again. "So I take it your boyfriend isn't the, ah, intellectual type?"

"He's smart," Annabeth insisted automatically. How many times had she had this same discussion with her fellow Athena siblings in recent years? "Per-uh, Don's just not that interested in ancient history."

She had to catch herself before she laughed at her own joke. Why would he read about it when he'd already lived it?

"Well, his loss," Mario said. He smiled charmingly at her. "While he's busy touring some boring old shipyards, what would you say to a tour of one of the finest restaurants in all of Rome?"

Annabeth's brain short-circuited. "I, uh, I've got a lot of reading to do," she stammered stupidly, gesturing to her piles of books.

"It'll still be here when we get back," he pointed out. "Come on. We'll be back before the old sea brains know we're gone."

That was enough to strengthen her resolve. "No, thank you. I really don't think it's appropriate. I'm sorry, I don't have much experience with this-"

"With eating?" he asked, grinning.

She glared him down. "But I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. I have a boyfriend. We're happy together-"

"Yes, I can tell," Mario said teasingly, but that just made Annabeth glare harder.

"I think you should go."

"No, no, of course. It was just a friendly invitation, nothing more. Believe me, I wouldn't dream of crossing Don. I get the feeling he doesn't take kindly to insults."

"You have no idea," Annabeth told him seriously.

"Well, if you change your mind, my room is upstairs, fourth door on the left. And if Don's busy while you're here in _bella Roma_ and you need a dashing Roman tour guide, you know where I live." With that, he winked and left the library, slamming the door shut behind him.

Annabeth stared at the door a moment before shaking her head sharply. She needed to focus. It didn't help that she could practically hear Rachel's voice: _"Ooh, he's a cute one_."

Annabeth shook her head again, looking down to search for the Virgil book she'd abandoned. It was just here; where had she put it again...?

_"Seriously, we leave you alone for, like, three days, and you're already finding adorable Italian guys. This whole Oracle thing was not supposed to be this unfair."_

"Shut up," Annabeth muttered. Talking to herself. Great. And what had she done with that stupid book? It wasn't like it could have wandered off.

_"I mean, no offense to the guys around here, of course. What you demigods lack in attention spans, you more than make up for in looks. Some of these Romans...phew! I'm going to have to have a talk with Apollo. Just how far does this 'no boys' rule extend, anyway? Like, I can obviously still talk to them. So...if we're talking over dinner, that's fine, right? Or if we're talking in my cave, late at night? Or at an art show? Or at a movie? We probably wouldn't even be talking there, actually-"_

"Shut up!" Annabeth shouted, rubbing her temples. Was this her own version of a conscience? Her conscience was a jerk.

_"That's not very nice. I'm trying to have a pleasant conversation here. We're all very worried, you know, and you're over there eyeing that gorgeous hunk of tiramisu..."_

Annabeth stood up abruptly, deciding it was time for some fresh air. As she turned to walk out the door, though, she came face-to-face with none other than Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

"Finally," Rachel said with a grin. "I was wondering how much more of that it was going to take to get your attention."

"I'm hallucinating," Annabeth murmured. "That's the only possible explanation."

"Or I'm IM-ing you," Rachel said mildly. "Personally, I know which explanation I'd go with, but you're the brainiac. Although let me just say, you have _fantastic_ taste in hallucinations!"

Annabeth stared. "Rachel?"

She stared back. "Maybe the hallucination thing is more likely than I thought. Did you hit your head recently?" Rachel started speaking slowly. "My name is Rachel. I am a friend."

"I know who you are!" Annabeth snapped. "But how...what...?"

"You know what you need for an IM? Money and mist. My dad hasn't disowned me yet, and we're on a boat in Florida. I think I meet the qualifications."

"But you'd need a location."

"Like _that's _hard." Rachel spread her arms. "Oracle, remember? Sort of a prophetess?"

"That doesn't mean you can see the future yourself. You don't even hear your own prophecies!"

"Okay, so you're predictable." Rachel shrugged. "All things considered, isn't it really the same thing?"

"No," Annabeth said, crossing her arms.

"You are such a killjoy." She clapped her hands. "So, to business!"

"'Business'?" Annabeth echoed. "We have business?"

"Yes. When your best friend takes off with her boyfriend's father without saying a word to you, you have business." Rachel peered at her disapprovingly through the IM.

Annabeth sighed. "I really can't explain-"

"You thought you were dividing the camps even more by sticking around, so you decided to head to Rome alone and thus not endanger anyone else with the prophecy," Rachel interrupted. Annabeth stared at her, astonished. "I'm telling you. Pre-dict-a-ble. I'm guessing Poseidon came along to make sure Percy didn't hate him for letting you die?"

"More or less," Annabeth admitted. "So why are you calling if you knew all this already?"

"To tell you that you're being an idiot," Rachel said brightly.

"Look, if you're going to try to talk me out of it-"

"I didn't say that. I said I was going to tell you that you're being an idiot. By the way, you're being an idiot."

"I have to do this, Rachel. I can't let Percy get killed over me," Annabeth said, trying to will Rachel to see how serious she was.

"And just where does it say Percy's going to get killed over you?" Although it was outside the range of the IM, Annabeth just knew Rachel had her hands on her hips. "Or maybe he gets killed trying to get you back. Did you ever think of that? Hmm?"

"I guarantee he's safer there than he is here!"

"Yes," Rachel said, deadpan. "We can only pray you make it out of the library unscathed."

"Rachel..."

"Who knows what horrors lurk in the depths of _Moby Dick_?" She grinned. "See what I did there?"

"Rachel!"

"Oh, fine," Rachel huffed. "I just thought you'd like to know your boyfriend is miserable without you, and his moping is seriously bring down the mood around here. I think at the very least you should IM him and let him know you're still okay. Before we're forced to tie him below decks so we don't have to feel like we've kicked a puppy every time we look at him."

"Oh, right, like you're not going to turn around and tell him all about this the minute we're through here," Annabeth scoffed.

"No, I'm not, thank you very much."

"Wait, you're not going to tell him you IM-ed me? At all?" Annabeth's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Really?"

"No," Rachel said. "Not if you promise to contact him yourself. I'm not going to rub it in his face that I went behind his back to try to get his girlfriend to talk to him. And Hera's monitoring every move he makes, so...it's up to you to contact him. Securely. I'm sure Poseidon knows a way you can do it."

"I don't-"

"Yes, you do. As of now, I'm not giving you a choice. No excuses. Just call." Rachel's face softened. "You know how Percy is. This is tough on him. He finally regains his memories and finds you, and suddenly you're gone again."

Annabeth suddenly found it hard to swallow. "All right. You've made your point."

"Great!" chirped Rachel, back to her usual bubbly self. "You know, you were right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"By leaving, you did bring the camps together."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They've all teamed up in this great new game they're calling, 'Who Can Curse Drew the Worst?' Clarisse is the current reigning champion; that girl can be seriously creative when she puts her mind to it. Just wait until you hear what she did yesterday. You are going to be _so_ sorry you missed it..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry for the long wait; my life got so unexpectedly hectic! I also revised/rewrote the chapter and moved some things around, thanks to an excellent recommendation from bibliophile114 (which, on the bright side, means part of the next chapter is already written, so hooray?). Speaking of bibliophile114, another MASSIVE thanks for beta reading this one for me not once, but twice. I can't believe your life gets so busy, and you still make time to look over these things. I owe you so much more than I can say in a quick author's note! But take this as a down payment, okay?**

**I'd also like to thank everyone who's been reading so far, especially if you're sticking with the story despite my hectic schedule (and now possibly my choice to create an OC...I promise it was necessary! Really!). I hope you all enjoyed the latest installment, because I'm pretty sure you deserved it :)**


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